Janet's Mission 4: Aching Joints
by Dancing Through Life
Summary: Jack still can't escape...read the previous three Janet's Mission stories first!


Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Well, here's the fourth installment! There are going to be a few more of these, just how many I'm not sure. I know how I'm going to end it, but in the meantime I'm taking suggestions for more places they could be. If you have not read Janet's Mission 1,2, or 3, I suggest you go back and read them. It won't take long, and this'll make so much more sense.

"I swear, Sir, I had nothing to do with that one!" Carter insisted.

"Oh yeah? Then how the hell did YOUR best friend know where I was going to be last night?"

"You said you had reservations! All she had to do was call around the local restaurants and find the one with a reservation under O'Neill!"

O'Neill wanted to hesitate. But he knew that if he wanted to stay in control of this conversation (or rather, rant) with his 2IC, he would not give her the upper hand.

No Siree.

"Then you should have told me to reserve it under something like Spike!"

Carter sniggered.

"Oh, so all of a sudden this is a guilt trip?"

She had him there.

"It wasn't supposed to be," He muttered, taking a swig of the coffee she had originally come into his office to bring him.

"Good." She stood up from the chair in his office. "Because I need to get my booster now."

"Another one? How many do we need?"

"As many as it takes, Sir. She's just being cautious."

"That's what I'd call it."

"Sir?"

"Yes, Carter?"

"Why is getting a shot so terrible?"

"Carter, there is a foreign object piercing through my skin."

"That's not as frightening as some of the substances we've encountered on other planets, Sir."

"Carter?

"Yes, Sir?"

"Go see your witchy friend before I throw you out of this office for cheekiness."

As O'Neill drove home that night, he was slightly annoyed.

To begin with, his knee hurt like hell. Which was odd, because he had been stuck doing paperwork that day. So what did he do to it?

Maybe it had been when he banged it on the bottom of his desk when he had been yelling at Carter.

But he did that all the time.

The banging part. Not the yelling.

Maybe he had stood up suddenly too many times during the day.

Let's see, there was the three times with Carter, once when General Hammond had come to make sure he was doing the paperwork, and Daniel had popped in at one point with some new exciting discovery.

Then there was the one time Frasier showed up.

Yes. That had to be it.

The other reason he had been annoyed was that Frasier had shown up.

Luckily, he had been at his desk so he was able to ward off an attack with the needles with a file folder.

She might've been small, quick and able, but he was faster.

And the file folder turned out to be a good defense.

By the end of the assault, his file folder looked like the dart board at O'Malley's.

O'Malley's. What a nightmare.

Never again was he getting reservations there.

He would risk them not having room.

By the time he was ready to go to bed, his knee felt no better.

He had done his usual treatments. He had iced it, he had filled himself with advil, used his little massage machine, and even used some of that lotion Carter had given him.

His theory had been correct that the stuff was useless.

What was it with women and lotion?

He yawned and stole a look at his bedside clock. 10:42. He had to be at the base by 7:00 the next morning.

The base.

That gave him an idea.

It was probably the only thing that would help him besides going to see Frasier and getting poked again.

It could work. He had quarters on the base, he would spend the night there.

The only complication was that he might fall asleep behind the wheel.

Not a problem – Daniel had left him some of his extra strong coffee mix.

Looks like the Space Monkey was actually good for something for once.

And once he was at the base, he didn't need to go anywhere near the Infirmary.

The locker room and his quarters were very far away from each other.

Daniel's coffee had him buzzing by the time he reached the base.

But a half hour in the whirlpool would set him right.

Damn, that thing was godly.

Not in a Hathor way. It just did wonders for his knee and nerves.

As he suspected, there was no one in the locker room. Who would be at 11:15 PM? The normal people were asleep, and the geeks were all geeking over their science projects.

Jack sighed as he slipped into the water. It already felt great.

After five minutes, he started to feel sleepy again. The whirlpool just had that much power over him. His knee was loosening too.

It was about time for that.

As Jack was really starting to get comfortable, a sharp shooting pain suddenly spread up his arm.

"Bloody Hell!" He screeched. "Doc, I'm barely wearing anything!"

"Colonel, I'm a doctor. Do you really think you have anything I haven't seen before?"

"Cute." He turned to the side of the hot tub. He noticed Carter had left some shampoo there. He knew that if he used it, he'd smell all girly when he got out, but in the circumstances, he'd risk it. He took it and poured about half of it into the water and turned the jets on.

"How did you figure this one out, Doc?"

"I drugged your coffee."

"What?" Then it dawned on him.

"How long has Carter been in your services?"

"Sir?"

"How long has Carter been working for you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Sir."

"Like hell you don't. You gave Carter that coffee that she brought me this morning. How long has it been since she defected?"

A wry smile spread across Janet's face.

"She hasn't defected, Sir. During her booster today, she was threatened with a few more shots then she actually needed."

"If you don't mind, Doc, I'd like to finish my soak in peace."

"Understood." She flounced to the door. "Oh and Colonel? You smell lovely.

The door slammed quickly behind her.

God. This flowery stuff was too much for him.

His knee felt better anyway.

He jumped into the shower to scrub the flowery smell off of him.

If it weren't for the doctor, he wouldn't be at the base smelling like a lilac tree. Life wasn't fair.

Napoleonic Needle Pusher.


End file.
